Push

You've seen it before - Harry, fearing for Hermione's safety in the coming days of Voldemort, begins to push her away. But just how much can one person take? What happens when Harry discovers that he hasn't just pushed her away from himself, but pushed her towards something much, much worse?

Disclaimer: They're not mine, etc.- if they were, I don't think I could do this to them....

Author's Notes and Gigantic Warnings:Special love, as always, to danielerin, my beta extraordinaire, who had the gall to actually have 'a life' instead of being my beta at beck and call... who the hell does she think she is? *laughs*

And also - a special thanks to Kaze, whose consistently dark and disturbing fics put me in a mind to write something this twisted. And also to those gals that lured her with their siren song to darker_destiny - those beautiful and dark pieces had a hand in inspiring this as well...

And lastly, to Goldy, who actually inspired me to write my first dark piece - that horrible and awful darkness known as "And All Good Things" - and for her threatening to kill off Harry again if I didn't write something more substantial than a 100 word drabble...

Kisses to the OBHTF! (And I'm really showing off the "T" here!)

***

And now be warned dear reader - this is Dark!Fic! Very Dark!Fic! and a wide deviation from the other stories I've posted here. I decided to try my hand at something different, and, well, this couldn't be more different. And so, if you're easily squicked by certain darker themes - sex, death, murder, etc., then I suggest you try something else... please! I'd rather you do that than flame the hell outta me for not warning you properly.

This is your last chance to turn back.

You're certain... really quite sure?

Then get comfortable... it will be your last chance to feel comfortable for awhile...

***

Push



His scar had been pulsing for the better part of a week now. Tonight it had really begun to sing. He hissed and smacked his palm over it, hoping it would help.

"Harry," her voice was soft, tentative. "Are you all right?"

He looked up at her, just for a moment forgetting everything. He almost asked for help. Almost asked her to fetch McGonagall. Almost...

"I'm fine Hermione! It will pass. Just... just leave me be." His tone was harsher than necessary and he knew it.

She swallowed, gathering up her courage before speaking again.

"Please, Harry, I know... I mean, I understand if you're upset with me, but if your scar is bothering you then you need to speak to someone. Dumbledore always said..."

"Well, he's dead, isn't he?! A fat load of good his advice did him!"

She looked near tears and it broke something inside of him, but he continued to glare.

"Please, Harry, I'm... I'm only trying to help..."

"Help! Is that what you call it?!" His voice wavered into a disgusting imitation of her own. "'Oh, Harry, you must to do this! Oh, Harry, you really shouldn't do that!' That isn't help Hermione, that's just more of you being an overbearing know-it-all, and I've already told you, I've had enough of it!" He was shouting now, but she stood her ground.

"Fine then! I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done, but I'm not going to stop trying to help you, Harry! Everything that's going on - you need us. You need me!"

"Need you?! Hermione, you're delusional! You may be brilliant in all sorts of subjects, but remember who has the top marks in Defense. Me! And Defense is going to be the only skill of use to me if I plan on living to my eighteenth birthday. So," he advanced on her, his face fixed into a cruel sneer, "tell me, exactly what would I need you for?"

Her lip trembled and tears were falling from her eyes, but her gaze remained fixed on his.

"You need your friends, Harry, no matter what you think," she whispered. "We all need each other now."

"No, Hermione, you need me! Everyone needs me, and I don't need anyone, especially you. You're nothing but an obsessive question-all who thinks she has an answer for everything. All you've ever done over the last seven years is bring me more and more grief." He paused a moment, then continued in a cold tone, "I'm sorry I ever saved you from that stupid troll, because he certainly would have saved me a lot of trouble!"

She paled.

"You don't mean that..."

"I do, Hermione! If it will get the bloody message across, then yes, I mean it! Merlin, why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"

She sniffled a bit and wiped her face, but her expression remained stoic.

"Because... because I love you, Harry. I actually think I'm in love with you, rotten as you've been, and I plan on doing whatever it takes to help you through this, even if you are being unforgivably horrible!"

He felt as if someone squeezed his heart. Everything he feared was coming to pass and he refused to feel happy. He refused to drop his carefully constructed charade to give in to the comfort of her words. Merlin, how he ached to hear her say it, and months ago he would have swallowed her up into a hug and snogged her senseless, but so much had changed since then. He'd be damned, literally damned, if he admitted he loved her back. He knew what would happen to her if he did, and he couldn't bear to make her a target.

He did the only thing he could.

He laughed.

Cold and cruel and heartless, and it destroyed him.

He wiped what she misconstrued as tears of amusement from his eyes before he spoke.

"You love me! You think you love me? Oh Merlin, is that rich. What did you expect, Hermione? That we'd fall into each other arms?" He suddenly grabbed her harshly and spoke in a deep and low voice. "I don't need you, Hermione, I never did. Better yet, I don't want you, and I can't imagine anyone who would. Now, once and for all, leave me the bloody hell alone, you ridiculous girl." He pushed her hard as he released her, then grabbed his books and walked slowly up the stairs. It took all his resolve not to turn back and look at her. It was worse when he heard her gentle sniffles become violent sobs.

That sound followed him all the way up to his room.

That sound would haunt him for years.

He was thankful the room was empty. It allowed him to do something he rarely ever did - break down completely. He started by throwing his books across the room, then kicking his trunk until he felt his foot might be broken. He was ready to tear the drapes from his bed before he saw his Firebolt. He grabbed it and forced the window open with a simple dirty look before racing out into the night.

He squinted as his speed increased, the wind threatening to rip his glasses from his face. His vision became more and more blurry before he realized he was crying.

He had meant to tell them both about the prophecy, yet somehow he managed to hold the information secret through all of sixth year. They had been closer than ever then - working together to find all sorts of ways to win the second war. He wanted to tell them so badly, but he couldn't bear to burden them.

Especially Hermione.

He'd always been able to read her so well. Droves of unspoken communication passed between them day after day. He knew his feelings for her had changed, becoming deeper and more emotional. He could see it in her eyes, too; things were rapidly changing between them, and yet neither one of them said anything. They really didn't need to.

But they were both afraid of hurting Ron.

And so they went on - this desperate need for Hermione growing in him day after day. He was frightened by how much he needed her, how much he loved her. He knew it must be love. It simply had to be. While he had no memory of being loved, he couldn't imagine feeling anything more than what he did for Hermione. He loved her. Desperately loved her.

And then Dumbledore happened.

It had been near the beginning of term. They had been training together and then someone, several someones, had stupefied him. When he woke, Dumbledore was gone. His bloodied hat lay in Harry's hands, and Harry ran to alert as many Order members as he could.

They eventually found what was left of Dumbledore's body at the castle entrance. A silver dagger with a note pierced his heart.

'Everyone who loves you and everyone you love.'

The Order members present had to restrain Harry from rushing off after Voldemort then and there. Dumbledore had informed several of them as to what Harry would need to learn before he was ready, and they all swore an oath to make certain he was prepared.

Before they even had a chance to recover, Hagrid disappeared.

Harry made Remus swear to never go out on assignment alone after that - a promise he reluctantly kept. That only left the Weasleys, who were moved to Grimmauld Place, then Ron and...

He'd be damned if he let anything happen to Hermione.

And somewhere, in his twisted, martyred logic, he decided that he needed to push her as far away as possible. Even to the point of making her hate him, because while he'd been able to shield his mind with Dumbledore training him, he didn't know how capable Voldemort was of breaking in to his thoughts. The deaths and disappearances weakened him, and he knew he'd be susceptible to Voldemort's powers.

He needed to focus on his training, focus on keeping his mind closed. He also needed to get Hermione as far away from him as possible.

It had taken weeks, but now... now he was certain he'd succeeded.

The rushing wind dried his face and masked the sounds of his sobs.

***

It was late by the time he returned to his room. He eased the window open and treaded lightly to his bed, noting that Ron wasn't in bed, asleep like the others. He checked the Marauder's Map, just to be certain, and saw Ron still studying in the common room. Satisfied, he gave into his exhaustion - the crying and the flying draining everything from him - and changed before collapsing on his bed.

As he lay there, ready to fall asleep, he felt a sharp sting in his scar. He'd nearly forgotten about it with everything else that had happened, but he now recognized what was happening.

Voldemort was happy.

Something had happened that made him quite happy, and this worried the hell out of Harry. What if he'd attacked someone else?

'I have to know,' he thought. 'I have to make certain.'

He'd had a good deal of training in occlumency and legilimency in the last year. Enough to make him feel confident that he could poke around a bit without being detected. He was more frightened at what he'd find than at being discovered.

'Just a quick little push then.'

He relaxed himself and opened the connection, a light touch here and there. But he was so tired, so very, very tired.

He probed a bit more - could feel the happiness, as if some plan had finally come to fruition - but that's the most he could get. No one was dead, no one injured. Of that he was certain. Anymore pushing and he'd be detected.

He reluctantly pulled back, and immediately fell asleep.

***

He was standing in the corner of the common room. Ron was seated at a table, one of the sparse collection of students still awake and working frantically on different assignments. No one noticed Harry as he walked over to Ron.

"Hey," he greeted, and Ron continued working.

"Ron?"

Ron took no notice of him at all. Harry waved his arm in front of his parchment, and Ron still continued working.

Harry looked around the room. No one seemed to notice him.

'Am I dreaming then?'

"HEY RON!" He shouted into his ear, and still Ron scribbled away.

Harry grinned.

"HEY YOU STUPID GIT!" He waved his arms around like an idiot, then laughed.

'I could have fun with this.'

He briefly considered spying on the Slytherins before he saw her come into the room. His heart stopped.

She'd been crying, that much had been obvious. When she first stepped into the room her shoulders were squared, her posture strong, but the closer she came to Ron, the more she seemed to deflate. She looked as if she were barely holding herself together by the time she reached him, and Harry felt miserable.

She looked downright nervous before she spoke.

"Ron, might... might I have a word?"

Ron dropped his quill, then pushed back from the table to fix her with a glare.

'What's going on? Why is he looking at her like that?'

"Right then, what is it?" His tone was cold, almost businesslike.

"It's... it's about Harry." Ron rolled his eyes but she hurried on. "I'm worried about him, Ron, I really am. Something's not right, hasn't been in a long while, but now... now it's gotten worse. Ever since Dumbledore. And... and he won't...," her voice trembled, "he doesn't want to talk about it."

Ron's voice was low and threatening.

"I'm not stupid, Hermione. Everyone in the tower knows about the fight you had earlier tonight."

Hermione went scarlet, but pressed on with a note of urgency.

"Ron, please... this is more important..."

"More important," he hissed. "Oh, of course! What's going on with Harry is always more important, isn't it?!"

He stood up and towered over her, being careful to keep his voice down. "I know what your little fight was really about, Hermione. Finally went and told him, did you? Didn't go the way you liked? That's just bloody brilliant, isn't it?" He narrowed his eyes. "And now you know," he poked the front of her shoulder, "what it's like to pour your heart out and have it stomped all over. I think I'll take some comfort in that before I feel too terribly sorry for you. As for Harry, he's pretty good at taking care of himself, regardless of what you may think."

Tears were cutting cool tracks down her reddened face at an alarming rate.

"Now if you don't mind, Hermione, I have an essay to finish." He sat back down. "I think it best we not speak for a while, don't you?" He didn't even bother to look at her as she nearly ran from the common room.

Harry had stood in stunned silence before everything hit him at once.

Ron had finally confessed his feelings to her, and she refused him. Harry was already well into treating her as badly as possible - and Ron? Ron offered her his heart. He was her easy way out - a certainty, while Harry was desperately pushing her away.

And she still refused him.

'Oh, Merlin,' he realized, 'she's lost us both.'

Part of him wanted to punch Ron for being so cruel, but he could hardly do that in his current state. The larger part of him wanted to run after Hermione and beg her forgiveness.

So that's what he tried to do.

But then the room shifted around him, forming into another part of the castle. The room darkened considerably - became dank and wet - and he realized it might be under the lake. The momentary disorientation passed, and Harry turned as he heard chanting behind him.

Death Eaters.

Or, at the very least, would-be Death Eaters. Most likely students - Slytherin students - wearing Death Eater robes and chanting in a circle. Just as before, Harry's presence went completely unnoticed. He stepped closer, trying to make out the words to the chant they were performing, and then he saw the floor.

Runes drawn in luminescent paint formed a circle on the floor. In the center, a variety of odd items clustered together: a scrap of parchment, an old quill, a battered copy of a book, a small tuft of hair and a longer lock of hair beneath it.

Harry still couldn't make out the chant, but he did his best to remember the runes. Whatever it was about this dream - and it felt more and more like a vision than a dream - he was going to make certain that he'd be able to recall as much as possible.

'Why didn't I take Ancient Runes?'

He had no way of transcribing the runes he'd seen, so he did his best to remember what he could.

'Four runes. One with a series of wavy lines, another with concentric circles, that one looks like a triangle with mathematical signs, that last one has an eye in it. Wavy circles maths eye. Wavy circles maths eye. What are those maths signs?'

He easily walked through one of the students and knelt on the floor to look closer. While examining the symbol he looked up as a flare of green light enveloped the circle, then pulsed through the objects. They glowed bright, and that's when he saw the title of the book. He looked closer.

The small tuft of hair was animal hair - ginger cat hairs.

The lock of hair was brown - a long and wavy lock of beautiful brown hair.

And the book... the book was her missing copy of 'Hogwarts: A History.'

His blood turned to ice.

The green light shot forth from the objects and hung like glowing vapor above the circle. The students chanted some more and the mist coalesced into a vague human shape. Then he heard that laugh - the one that often woke him from his nightmares with a scream frozen in his throat.

The students all cackled with glee as the vapor floated high into the air, then continued through the ceiling.

'HERMIONE!'

Dream or not, Harry was terrified. Fear clutched at him as he ran as fast as he could through doors and walls, desperate to get up to Gryffindor tower.

And then suddenly he was outside her door, the one that led to the private quarters of the Head Girl. He pushed past the disorienting effect and ran through the door to find her sobbing in her bed.

"Hermione, get up! You're in danger! You have to get out of here NOW! GET UP!!" He tried to grab her arm but his hands went right through her.

"HERMIONE!!"

But she continued to sit and cry, oblivious to his presence. He looked around frantically, searching for anything that could help. Crookshanks was lying on her bed and Harry waved his arms in front of him, vaguely recalling something about animals being prescient of ethereal planes. But whatever plane he was currently inhabiting wasn't detectable. Crookshanks stayed curled next to a distraught Hermione, doing his best to comfort her with his mere presence.

Harry turned to run from the room, trying to think of anyone who might be able to help him. He considered trying to find his sleeping body. Maybe he could jump back in there and stop whatever was happening.

And then the green vapor came rising ominously from the floor.

He realized his dream self was devoid of a wand, and so Harry began channeling all of his energy into deflection and shielding charms. He threw up his hand and aimed it at the coalescing menace before him. The defensive spells came easily; he could see them forming in the palm of his hand as he spoke one after another. But again, whatever plane he was on appeared incapable of affecting this one.

The mist moved through him unimpeded, and continued to Hermione. Again, Crookshanks remained oblivious and Harry could only stare in horror as the mist coalesced around Hermione's head.

"NO! GET AWAY FROM HER!!" He swiped at it helplessly as it enveloped her.

...he doesn't love you... he could never love you...

That voice made his chest tighten. Voldemort! Only there was another voice as well, speaking alongside his.

...they don't even like you anymore.... they've outgrown their need for you...

Harry felt sick. The second voice was Hermione's.

...you knew this would happen... you knew they would leave you... everyone leaves you....

Her parents had died in a car crash shortly after the end of fifth year. Magic or cruel fate - no one could say for certain - only that there car had run mysteriously off the road.

...and now they've left you... the both of them... just like you always knew they would...

"No," she gasped in an anguished cry. Her body shuddered with racking sobs.

"Hermione, no! Don't listen to it!!" But she couldn't hear Harry.

...there's no one for you now... you're all alone... forever alone... no one to love... no one to love you... you knew this would happen...

She shook her head in denial.

"They'll come around. They always do. We just need time!" Her voice was a desperate whisper.

...he hates you...

"No..."

...he hates you, because you were right about Sirius... he's never forgiven you...

"...no, please...," she whimpered.

...he will never forgive you... he hates you for being right... he hates you for not stopping him... you killed his godfather...

"...it wasn't my fault..."

...you didn't stop him... you were so afraid of making him more angry...

Harry began to cry in desperation.

"That's not true, Hermione. Please don't listen, not to any of this. I love you. I do love you. Please! LEAVE HER ALONE!!"

...you let him die... you should have stopped him... you failed them... all of them...

"I failed all of them," she whispered.

"No, Hermione, please..."

...you failed him... you promised to help him and you failed when it was most important...

"I'm no good at all..."

...no good at all... no good at all... no good at all...

Harry could only stand and watch, horrified at what was happening.

...they hate you...

"They hate me."

...he hates you...

"No..."

...he hates you...

"Please no..."

...he hates you...

"He hates me..."

At that moment, Harry swore he saw something die in her eyes.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione, please... I don't... I could never hate you... please." He cried uncontrollably.

...he's only ever used you... only used you... he hates you and he used you...

"I can't... no... it's too much..." She stood up, and staggered to her desk. Pulling apart at drawers she threw the dresser contents everywhere until she found a vial and uncapped it. She swallowed the contents in one gulp, dropped the container, then collapsed on her bed.

Harry stood frozen in fear. He forgot how to breathe as he watched her still form.

'The vial! Merlin, what was in that vial!?' He looked for it, frantic. It had rolled almost under the desk, so he dropped to the floor to read the label, then sighed in relief.

'Dreamless Sleep.'

There was a sharp hiss behind him as the vapor rose away from Hermione's head and hung in a low cloud over her sleeping form.

'I have to stop this. How do I stop this?'

He ran as fast as he could back to his room, frantic to rejoin his sleeping form. His body was still caught up in a deep sleep and no matter what he did, he couldn't wake himself. After an hour of useless trying, Harry decided to search for other means of help. He wandered the castle trying to communicate with the professors to no avail. Even the ghosts couldn't detect him.

He was completely alone, unable to do anything but observe.

After a few hours of restless wandering, Harry returned to Hermione's room. She remained unmoved on the bed, the ominous cloud still floating above her. He rolled onto his side and curled up into a tight ball beside her. If he couldn't protect her, at least he could be with her.

***

It felt as if he didn't sleep at all. He opened his eyes and saw that it was morning. Hermione was slowly coming out of her dreamless sleep and that horrible green cloud still hung over her. The more she stirred, the lower it floated, until she opened her eyes and it enveloped her once again.

Harry heard that sick combination of voices.

...they hate you...

Her eyes went wide as she slowly remembered. She buried her face in her hands, reluctantly recalling her miserable thoughts from last night.

...they hate you... they used you...

"No... we just need time... just some time..." She stood up and retrieved her clothing before shutting the door to her bathroom.

'How do I stop this?' Harry was horribly drained, but determined. Before he had a chance to think too long on his situation, the room shimmered before him and he found himself in the Great Hall.

He was shocked to see himself and Ron sitting at the table.

When Hermione sat down they barely glanced up.

"G-good morning," she offered.

They both ignored her.

...hate you... used you... left you..

She squeezed her eyes shut as if in physical pain. When she opened them again both boys were still promptly ignoring her, so she spent the rest of breakfast pushing around the food on her plate until the first bell rang.

Harry was disgusted to see that green vapor cling to her throughout the rest of the day.

Every time she tried to speak to them, they ignored her.

The cloud glowed brighter each time, and each time Harry heard that sickly voice telling her another vile thing.

The rooms were changing quicker now. Days were blurring together and he followed her everywhere. He was there when she was alone in her room crying. He was there when she tried to speak to either of them in the corridors. He was there when she was trying to catch their attention in classes. Each time they either ignored her or sneered, or worse yet, said something horribly cruel.

They were truly awful to her - day after day after day.

And each time they were, the vapor made it worse.

He didn't know how long it had been. Maybe weeks - perhaps as long as a month or two - but whatever the span, it had finally worn her down.

She was alone in her room. Even Crookshanks seemed to have abandoned her. She didn't have the energy to cry anymore. She simply sat numb on her bed, staring off into the distance. Her entire body pulsed with a sickly green glow.

Harry kneeled beside her.

"Hermione, I don't think you can hear me. I don't know if it's possible, but I love you, Hermione, I have for a long time. I'm sorry I'm acting like I don't. I didn't want you to get hurt, and now... oh Merlin, I don't know what they've done to you, Hermione. Just please, don't give up on me!"

...you don't love him... you couldn't possibly love someone like that...

"Shut it, you! Leave her alone!"

And then, as if taunting him, the voice shifted - became more Voldemort than Hermione.

...I can make it better... take the pain away...

Harry couldn't breathe.

"It hurts so much," she whispered.

...there's comfort in power, Hermione... I can give you that... you never have to hurt again...

"I love him..."

...you don't...

"I... I do..."

...he's never loved you... he's incapable... a lost and angry little boy...

"But..."

...I can take it all away... all the pain... forever...

She considered, and Harry was terrified.

She closed her eyes.

...let me show you... let me show you what it is to be wanted and needed... comforted... prized...

There was an unnatural stillness in the room as time ground to a halt.

...you know what to do... you are brilliant... no one knows but me... no one but me...

She stood in slow motion, then moved towards her dresser, walking right through Harry. He watched as she opened a drawer and removed an ornamental letter opener. She muttered a spell that sharpened it beyond intention. Picking it up, she walked to the full-length mirror and Harry screamed as she raised it to her chest.

'She's going to kill herself. Oh God, she's going to kill herself and it's my fault!'

"HERMIONE, NO!!" He tried in vain to stop her.

She held it to her nightdress, then pulled her collar forward while slashing it open at the neck. Her upper chest was now exposed and she looked into the mirror as she touched it to her skin. In slow and deliberate arcs she carved one of the runes that Harry had seen the night of the ritual. The marks dripped thin lines of blood as she carved beneath her collarbone and above her breasts. Her teeth clenched tightly as she finished. She never once cried out in pain.

...you have power... such power...

She set the letter opener down and looked into her mirror. The blood was slowly blotting the top of her nightdress, and the rune was traced in bright pink welts of skin.

She closed her eyes again, and Harry screamed as the sickening green vapor gathered into the wound, absorbed completely into her body. She threw her head back and the rune glowed green before sealing itself shut, no trace of blood to be seen.

Her body was still, then slowly began to tremble. When she finally opened her eyes, they glowed a faint green.

...let me show you..

The voice was now completely Voldemort's.

She looked into the mirror, staring at her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt anymore."

...never again... let me show you...

"Please," she whispered.

Her hands glowed faintly in the dark of the room, then began to move of their own volition. Her face stayed fixed on the mirror as she watched her body under his control. Her arm shot out and summoned a chair from across the room. She stared in shock.

...my power moves through you now... there is nothing to fear... let me show you...

She raised her hand and flicked. Her nightdress tore apart into a puddle beneath her. Her eyes were wide in shock as she stood in nothing but her pink knickers. Her hands came together on her thighs and pushed down to seat her in the chair.

...you will be prized...

Harry grimaced and turned away, his face burning in humiliation.

Hermione's hands moved over her body, caressing her skin.

...I will show you pleasure... power and pleasure... and you will want for nothing more...

She closed her eyes.

...watch... see the power you have... there is no shame in power...

Reluctantly she returned her gaze to the mirror, watching as her hands moved over her body.

She moaned as her fingers teased lightly across the side of her neck, working slowly at the base of her scalp. She kissed her palm as it went past. Her other hand brushed softly across her nipples. Then both hands moved to her waist, her palms flat as they smoothed up her torso. They stopped beneath, then traced around the outer edges of her breasts as they continued up to her neck and into her hair in a teasing massage. Slowly they came down again and finally began to expertly knead her breasts, soft at first, then with more urgency. One hand came back up to her face, two fingers waiting patiently before her. She opened her mouth and licked them, and they returned to her nipples, wetting each one in turn and letting the cool air of the room harden them further. Her moans grew louder as she watched what her hands were doing to her body, pinching and twisting and teasing.

Harry was horrified, but transfixed. He wanted to turn away, but couldn't.

She threw her head back and whimpered. A hand came up and scratched teasingly down the long column of her neck, raising soft pink welts in its wake.

Her hands traveled down her body, smoothing down to her knees. Then her thumbs pushed into her thighs and her hands parted her legs. Her eyes grew wide as she watched in interest. Her face was flushed and her breathing ragged as her hands pulled her legs further and further apart. She saw herself splayed in the mirror as one hand returned to her breasts. The other hand began to trace the front of her knickers, soft at first, then harder, then harder still. Finally a finger slipped beneath the damp fabric, lifting it away from her body. She hissed as the cool air hit her.

She tilted further back in the chair, her legs falling further apart. Another wave of her hand and her knickers were ripped away. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she watched her hand in fascination. Two fingers moved up and down her slit, pushing a little more each time. When they reached lower, pressing more into her, she was shocked to feel the wetness. Her fingers dipped lightly as they passed, a soft wet noise each time they opened her. She writhed in the chair.

...you will be prized...

Her other hand pushed hard down her torso to join her left. Her right hand began to mimic what the left had done, while the left hand traced her moistness over her breasts.

...that is the scent of power... you have power... never forget it...

Her right fingers began dipping into her. Her left hand returned, splaying her folds and teasing her clit.

Hermione cried out.

Harry groaned.

Her fingers thrust frantically into her.

Her fingers worked her clit mercilessly.

...I have power, Hermione... succumb to my will... enjoy what I've given you...

She stared into the mirror, her teeth grit as she hissed.

...give me your power, Hermione, and you'll never want again...

Her fingers were a blur.

Her gaze was fixed directly into the mirror. Her eyes simmered in the green glow.

...give me your power...

A deep and primal scream erupted from her throat as her fingers disappeared inside her body.

...YESSSS.... yesssss, Hermione.... my Hermione...

Her body arched from the chair as spasms shook her again and again.

...you are mine, and will never want for anything again...

"Yes," she whispered.

Harry fell to the floor, disgusted and aroused.

***

More days blurred by in a rush. They barely spoke to one another, their friendship continuing to crumble beyond repair. Hermione rushed back to her room as often as she could to be alone with Voldemort's perverse comfort.

He taught her things - dark and terrible things.

And she was prized. Harry saw the way certain Slytherins began to treat her with a silent deference.

Ron and the other Harry acted as if they didn't know her at all.

And so the days continued, and Hermione's power grew in progression with Voldemort's influence. Until the day the war came to Hogwarts, and Harry faced Voldemort one last time.

He watched himself battle Voldemort in fascination, terrified that he didn't know where Hermione was. And then he saw it, the spell that brought the other Harry to his knees, too weak to continue.

He'd failed.

Voldemort laughed as he walked towards him with deliberate slowness.

"The power he knows not!" He laughed again and both Harrys gaped at him, eyes growing wide.

"That's right boy, the prophecy. I know all about it! Tortured it out of that foolish old man - and you know what? For once he was right. It truly was a weapon, because it told me exactly how to defeat you, you foolish, ignorant boy! Crucio!"

The other Harry writhed in anguish.

"You had that power in your hand, and you know what you did? You threw it away! Some ridiculous and misguided notion on your part gave me my victory. You might as well have slit your own throat!" He laughed again.

The other Harry gasped for air, looking up in fear at Voldemort.

"Incarcerous!"

Ropes bound him to a tree. He was too weak to move or struggle.

"But I will have pity, just this once, because you truly are the most foolish boy I've ever known. Yes, just this once, before you die, I can be magnanimous in that."

Voldemort held his hand up, a green flame forming into a ball in his palm. He threw it upward, and seconds later two Death Eaters escorted a third person into the clearing.

The Harry that was bound to the tree could only gape in horror.

The Harry that observed shook his head back and forth, muttering 'no' over and over again as tears escaped his eyes.

Hermione stood between the Death Eaters. Voldemort dismissed them, and she bowed before him.

"My Lord, I've waited so long for this moment."

He strode to her, lifting her with a soft touch beneath her chin.

"You will never bow before me. I have raised you above the others... my consort, my lady, my victory!" He leaned forward and kissed her and she moaned into his mouth.

The Harry bound to the tree began to scream.

"She was your salvation, boy - your power. She loved you!" He sneered. "She loved you enough to sacrifice herself, and you threw her away! But I... I know power when I see it. I saw her through you, saw her potential, realized her importance," he laughed. "I almost feel sorry for you and your idiocy."

Voldemort circled Hermione, his hand grazing her.

"How could you throw her away?" Voldemort whispered in awe. "Did you not know? How could you not know?" He lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. She shivered beneath him. "And now... now she'd do anything for me, because I gave her what you didn't." He slipped his hand behind her head and kissed her with greed, relishing Harry's screams. "Show him, Hermione... my Hermione. Show him what you'd do for me."

She turned to Harry, a cold and cruel smile playing on her lips. With a wave her clothing was gone, and she splayed herself on the ground, her eyes never leaving his. Voldemort knelt before her and entered her swiftly. She cried out and screamed "my lord" over and over again, her eyes never leaving Harry's.

He continued to thrust, working his hand between them. Her eyes began to roll back as he touched her with precision.

He spoke in a low and clear voice in her ear while she continued to stare at Harry.

"He did love you, you know," he taunted. Her eyes widened in surprise, but he increased his ministrations, causing her to moan. "He loved you so much that he sought to protect you from me."

She managed to pull her eyes from Harry, searching Voldemort's face for any hint of a lie. When she found none she looked at Harry again.

'Is that true?'

And Harry could still read her, even after everything that had happened. He saw the question in her eyes, and answered the only way he could.

He sobbed, completely broken in spirit and will.

And the horror of it was echoed in Hermione's eyes - and then Voldemort deftly moved his fingers, working Hermione into a frenzy, and even through the horror of discovery, Hermione was powerless to stop what he was doing to her.

With expert manipulation he pushed her.

And she gasped out in pleasure when she came, tears pouring from her eyes in shame.

Voldemort laughed, a dark and terrible sound, and when he finally came within her he cried out, "Mine."

And only then did he kill Harry.

***

More blurs. Harry felt like something within him had well and truly died.

He watched helplessly as friends and acquaintances alike fell before Voldemort. The world came to its knees with Hermione by his side. Even after she'd come to accept that she'd been manipulated, she was too far gone to do anything but follow him. She chose to live as his consort rather than endure a life of torture. He continued to mold her, purge her of any morals or guilt.

Whenever her doubts caused her to waver, the rune glowed from her chest - his control reasserted over her.

He taught her to kill, and she found perverse pleasure in discovering new and interesting ways to murder someone.

And then the day came when the Death Eaters found Ron.

They brought him before Lord and Lady Voldemort. He offered him as a gift to her, to kill as she pleased for the amusement of the court.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, a filthy string of expletives shot from his mouth and she laughed. She stepped before Voldemort, and Harry saw that lopsided smirk on her face. The one she used to get when she'd just come up with some wonderful idea or solved a tricky problem. He used to love that smirk. Now it terrified the hell out of him.

In the palm of her hand a series of bluebell flames appeared, and she smiled.

They were first years, and she was carrying around a jam jar with those flames.

She smirked when she'd figured out the potions puzzle that got him through to the Philosopher's Stone.

She hugged him, telling him all the reasons she believed in him.

And now she was throwing the bluebell flames at Ron, freezing and unfreezing them so he burned to death over the course of days...

***

She left the audience chamber and returned to their bedroom. That horrifying, twisted smirk still playing upon her face. Death Eaters and the faithful alike bowed and scurried from her presence as she strode through the corridors.

Harry followed, completely numb.

The two Death Eaters guarding the door bowed, then let her pass to their private bed chamber. Once inside, she used a complicated charm on the door, barring entrance to all.

She used her wand to draw a series of runes on the floor, then ripped open the front of her robes. The rune on her chest glowed a vicious and bright green, radiating from her and lighting the room.

Only then did Harry look up in curiosity.

She went to her dresser, muttered a charm, and revealed a secret compartment. Reaching inside, she withdrew something shining... something familiar...

The letter opener.

She whispered the same charm she had used that night - the one that sharpened it beyond its intention.

Her hand shook horribly as she reached for it. The rune illuminated the area around her, and she fought and hissed to reach the letter opener.

There was a sudden pounding on the door, and while Harry's head snapped in that direction, Hermione continued to force herself to grab the weapon. He looked back at her, and through his haze of numbness, he realized something.

'She knew they were coming.'

Loud crashes now - spell after spell being thrown against the sealed chamber, and only when she finally grabbed it, did he appear.

A cracking noise ripped through the room as Voldemort apparated into the chamber. Hermione turned quickly to face him, her features squeezed into a rictus of pain and triumph.

He tutted, as if addressing a small child.

"Really my dear, did you think it would be that easy?"

He went to step towards her, and was thrown backwards, locked in the circle of runes she'd drawn earlier.

"Yes, my dear, I did!" Her body was shaking horribly, but her voice was strong and forceful.

Voldemort raised his hand.

"I see we still need a bit of purging. I must say, my Hermione, I'm surprised there's any of this left in you. Guilt and morals - what good are they, really?" He laughed and worked his magic, causing the rune on her chest to nearly blind them in its brilliance.

Hermione stood her ground.

Voldemort's smug grin dropped from his face.

Harry was riveted between the two of them.

"You killed everything I loved... you made me kill everything I loved!"

"I only showed you your true nature - the nature of power!"

"I never wanted power, I only wanted love."

"He would never have given it to you..."

"He never had a chance," she spat at him, then raised the weapon high in her shaking hand.

"Do you see, my lord? Do you see the runes that bind you? They're similar to the ones that bind me. We're joined now, you and I, and I can only hope that this works as well on you as it does on me!"

She threw her head back, and whispered in the smallest voice, "I'm so sorry Harry."

And then she slit her throat.

And Voldemort screamed in agony as he died with her.

And Harry couldn't stop screaming.

***

"Harry! Harry! For Merlin's sake... wake up... please wake up!!"

Neville was shaking him, hard.

Harry was still screaming, thrashing wildly in his bed.

Dean held down an arm, while Seamus held his legs. Neville had the other arm, looked at the other two boys as if asking permission, then gulped as he swung a strong backhand at Harry's cheek.

Harry's eyes flew wide open in shock, a scream dying in his throat.

"Bugger, Harry... all right, then?!" Dean was the first to ask.

Harry struggled to sit up as the boys released him.

"When... what day is this? What's happened?"

The boys looked in confusion at one another.

"Er, it's Wednesday. Ron's downstairs finishing an essay. And, um, I think you tried to kick your trunk to death," Neville offered.

Harry jumped up, not wasting any time. His foot was sore, but he ignored it. He grabbed the map, and tapped it with the incantation.

"Neville, I need the three of you to assemble as many D.A. members as you can, right now. Get Ron as well, teachers, anyone else you can find. There are Death Eaters, student Death Eaters, in one of the dungeons by the lake. There's at least six of them...," Harry's eyes scanned the map, "THERE! They're doing a ritual, something really bad. Stop them!" His voice had an unquestionable air of command. The three boys rushed from the room.

Harry turned and grabbed his Firebolt, then flew out the window. He circled the tower in a blur until he found her window. With a wave of his hand it blew inwards and he heard her scream as he flew in. She was standing on her bed, her wand trained on him, with eyes wide and scared.

"H-Harry...? What on earth?"

He looked for the spot on the floor where he'd seen the vapor rise before. Then he realized he might not be able to see it now that he wasn't in an altered state. That also meant he'd be defenseless against it.

"We're leaving, now!" He grabbed her arm and she struggled.

"What are you talking about? Harry, let me go!"

"You're in danger. I can't explain, just please, trust me!" He stared at her, trying to will all of his fear and urgency into his gaze. "There's no time!"

As she blinked, he saw her expression start to change from confusion to fear and in that split second he grabbed her and flew out the window. He hadn't even mounted his broom properly, just held on for dear life as he clutched it tightly in one hand and held her around the waist with the other.

They flew at an alarming speed from the castle, over the grounds and headed for the far side of the lake. Hermione had her arms tightened in a vice grip around his neck the entire way, and when Harry brought them down they tumbled in a messy heap into the cool and damp earth.

They lay on the ground and Harry was afraid to let her go.

Her grip finally loosened and she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Harry, I'm scared. I'm really scared. What is it? What's happened?"

He tried his best, but lost his composure altogether. He squeezed her tight and then began crying softly into her hair.

"Harry?" She could only hug him back and do her best to comfort him. He continued to shudder and she whispered soothing nonsense into his ear until he calmed.

"Harry, please - please tell me what it is!" She sounded terrified, and he did his best to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he sniffed. "I'm sorry, Hermione, for everything..."

"Harry, please. You're really scaring me!"

He drew a deep breath, willing himself to deal with the immediate danger.

"Just... just a moment." He let her go and stood up. She began to shiver from the cool night air and he conjured a fire to warm them. He took another breath, then drew the runes in flame in the air above her.

"Hermione, these runes... what are they? I mean, do you know this spell?"

She looked confused, but then turned her attention to his drawings.

"Are these accurate?"

"As much as I can remember. It was part of a ritual of some kind. These were traced on the ground and there were six Death Eaters chanting around them. There were also... there were some belongings in the center of the circle."

She stood up and looked closer while deciphering them. It took her a minute, but one by one she read them. She bit her lip in uncertainty, then withdrew her own wand, rearranging the runes and modifying them to their proper shapes from Harry's scribblings. She joined them with concentric circles in the order he'd seen earlier. When she spoke, he could barely hear her.

"Is... is this what you saw, Harry?"

"Yes. Yes, that's it exactly."

The color drained from her face. She turned to face him.

"Harry? Whose belongings?!" She spoke in a horrified whisper.

He closed his eyes, then spoke in a solemn voice.

"Yours."

Her eyes rolled back as she squeezed them shut.

"My book. They have my book, don't they?"

"Yes."

"Hair? Mine and Crookshanks?"

"Yes, and some other things. Hermione, is there a defense against this? Can you block it? For all I know it's still floating around the school looking for you."

Her eyes flew open.

"You've seen it?"

"Yes, I have. I'm not sure exactly how, but I did."

"Harry," she spoke in a reproachful whisper. "Harry, you shouldn't have..."

His eyes went wide.

"How... how did you know?

"That you used your connection to look into his mind? Because I'm certain Voldemort's the one that sent this after me, and no one but him and those that cast it would be able to see it."

"It doesn't matter now, Hermione. What matters is can you block it?"

She sighed and looked away. The fire gave her face an amber glow and Harry could see her worrying her bottom lip. She finally faced him.

"Harry, I need you to be honest with me. Absolutely honest, do you understand? I need to know," she swallowed, "I need to know if you meant what you said this evening, about... about not needing me anymore. About not wanting me around at all. Because... because if you did, then no, I don't think there's any way for me to protect myself."

"I don't understand."

"Harry, please, just answer the question," and she held her breath.

He sighed.

"No, of course I didn't," he said quietly. He heard her breathe a sigh of relief, and it took him a moment before continuing.

"Hermione, I've been trying to push you away for months now. The truth, the complete truth, is that I... I love you, too," his face turned red. "So much so that it scares me. I was afraid that he'd find out, that he'd kill you next, and I couldn't... I'd be damned, truly damned, if I let that happen - if I caused it to happen."

She was crying softly. He continued.

"But tonight, when my scar was hurting, I could feel his happiness and it scared the hell out of me. I was afraid that he had killed someone else I loved. What I didn't know was that he was happy because I'd finally pushed you hard enough and," he squeezed his eyes shut. "Merlin, Hermione, I didn't think that there were worse things than death. I never realized what else he could do to you."

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably. She blushed before she spoke again.

"Harry, what... what happened? I mean, what did you see?"

"I think it was a vision of some sort. I... I opened a connection, and somehow... I don't know if I saw the future or what he merely hoped would happen, but Hermione, I've... I've never been more frightened in my life. What he did... what he'd want to do to you..."

"Well, yes, I hadn't thought of that either. Never would have occurred to me actually. But I do know what that ritual is meant to do. If you hadn't pulled me out when you did..."

"I know... oh Merlin and God above, believe me when I say I know!" Harry was completely pale.

She blushed again as his words sank in.

"Oh God... Harry, how much did you see?!" Her arms crossed tightly in front, her hand clutched into a fist before her mouth in horror.

It was Harry's turn to blush.

"Oh Merlin," she whispered, turning away from him.

"Hermione," he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I saw what you'd become, if you thought that no one cared for you anymore. Because of some stupid idea I had about keeping you safe, I nearly destroyed you."

"Not you Harry, him."

"No, it was me. He couldn't do any of what he'd planned if I hadn't been stupid enough to push you away."

"Oh, Harry," she turned and buried her face in the crook of his neck, holding on to him tightly.

"I'm so sorry. I was completely stupid and I should have talked to you. I swear I'll never do something as stupid as that again."

She couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny then?"

"Can I have that in writing? In blood please?"

He remembered the blood dripping down her nightdress. He pushed her back and looked at her.

"That's not funny!" He was a little shocked to see she was wearing the same nightdress.

"I'm sorry, you're right." She looked down.

"Hermione, look at me, please." She did and he locked his gaze with hers. "I love you. If I lost you, then I wouldn't know how to go on. I wouldn't want to go on. Do you understand that? Do you believe me?"

She nodded.

"I thought if I made you hate me, if I pushed you away, that you'd be safe. Instead, I almost... I almost let him..." His voice broke a bit then, and she held him.

"I love you, Hermione...," he cradled her face. "I'll never push you away again! I swear!" And finally, he let himself feel it - the love that she had for him and his love for her. He leaned forward gently and kissed her, and she sighed into his mouth as her body melted against him. He continued to kiss her, then pulled back to pepper adoring kisses against her forehead, her cheek and along her jaw.

Her head tilted back and she gave a warm and gentle moan.

"Oh, Harry..."

And her arms went around his neck as he lifted her to him. He held her in a tight embrace as she returned his kisses in kind.

"I love you, Harry, so very much."

And they kissed for a few moments more, until the friction of their embrace and the thinness of their bedclothes began to make things a bit awkward.

Reluctantly, they drew back from each other, each trying to regain some composure.

"Um, perhaps we should get back to the castle?" She blushed.

"Yes, we should," he replied, as the blood slowly returned to his brain. "I hope the others were able to catch those Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" Her voice became a bit shrill.

"Junior Death Eaters. They're the ones who cast the spell."

She cast a worried look back at the castle.

"You told them to assemble the D.A., right? Not to go on their own."

"Of course I did. Why? Do you think they're that much of a threat?"

"It's powerful dark ritualistic magic, Harry. If Voldemort taught them that, than they're capable of almost anything. We should go." She glanced at the Firebolt and sighed. "You know, just once I'd like to be able to apparate into Hogwarts."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. This was Hermione. His Hermione. And he wouldn't want her any other way.

"I love you, I really do, and I'm sorry for what I've done. I'm terrified at what I could have done."

He collected his broom and extinguished the fire, not wanting her to see him so clearly before his next admission.

"Hermione, there's... there's more I need to tell you, the both of you, but, but not right now. About what's been bothering me recently..."

"I know, Harry," and she hugged him again. "When you're ready to talk, I'll be waiting. Me and... and Ron... oh Harry, you don't know about what happened with Ron."

"Er, I do actually..."

"He... he told you?!"

"No, not exactly. Whatever... whatever it was that happened to me tonight, that let me see what would happen, I saw the fight you had with Ron before you went to bed. We'll deal with it, Hermione, the three of us, together. We'll get through this somehow. I promise."

He kissed her again, sealing his word.

"C'mon then," he helped position her on the broom. "Hold on tightly!" Harry pushed off from the ground as they rushed back to the castle.

Together.